Brick Road

Every good story needs a good ending, and every good ending needs a good ending location. 


Last weekend, Christine took the girls and I to the musical "Wicked."  When Christine first asked the question, "Who wants to see Wicked?", she said it with such hopeful delight in her voice, a quivering of such anticipation that seemingly without hesitation I raised my hand.  But, as musical as I am, I am not much one for musicals.  Often, even when well done, I find them cheesy and overacted; the music becomes the overwhelming focus and the acting becomes gagomatic; I usually wish the characters would have lined up on stage and just sung the songs choir-like.  Then I wouldn't be so distracted by their jazz fingers and stage faces.


Although there was some overacting, it was so completely blown out of the water by the lead singer who played Elphaba, (or however it's spelled.  I'm too cheap to buy a program).  Anyway, for purposes of this blog, the story of "Wicked" is how the Wicked Witch of the West became 'wicked.'  After various trials and being cast out, she finds help in the places she never would have imagined.  Elphaba, using the skill naturally given her, finds a way to follow her own brick road.  No spoiler alert here, but the end of her own brick road led her through some amazing adventure, to the Emerald City and to a vast change in perspective.


Perhaps in my own journey, and this trip back to the States, I found my own brick road.  I discovered that amidst those individual bricks of my own life's existence, there is no Emerald City even in Ozstralia.  There is, though, a continual group of people that have been supporting us from near or far, praying for us, caring for us and expecting that God's will is done on every surface of the planet.  I found on my journey back to the States that I had been longing to write good things about good people - people whose lives had intersected mine in definite ways.  Perhaps its a bit egotistical, but I wanted to be one of those people that can change the way the world spins by starting a new revolution that speaks words of thankfulness and gratitude.  These people continually pointed me along my own brick road never letting me stray too far off the path.


Paul has a description of these people:  “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race (brick road) marked out for us.”  Hebrews 12:1


A witness is a person who has seen a course of events and testifies under oath that it is true.  On the last night we were in the United States, Reid's cloud of witnesses descended upon Zion Lutheran Church to testify that God's plan is evident in Reid and Christine's life.  And it was overwhelming.


 As we don't often get to publicly do a lot of music in the U. S. anymore, my mother sent out a FB save-the-date message and advertised in the local papers that we'd be performing.  A few people had returned messages saying that they would be coming: friends of the family, a few from Forest City.  I thought to myself how nice it would be to see the blast-from-the-pasters.  But on January 7, Old Man Winter showed up and when we arose that morning, the temperature gauge red -12 degrees F.  If you didn't keep your mouth shut, your lips would freeze off (that's not really true but it makes it sound tougher). 


There was an internal debate about cancelling the concert.  We couldn't postpone it because we were leaving for Australia the next day, so, despite the cold we decided to carry on with the plans even if only twenty or so people were to show up.


As the concert came close, people started to show up, but not just those who live close to Rake; there were people from literally every segment of my own brick road that showed up.  Some of my favorite teachers took their places half-way back.  Both of my high school baseball coaches were there; a score of Zion Lutheran life-long members came to (gulp) sit in the front of the church.  My grandparents and parents and relatives sat in the front two rows; two of the Fuzzies were there; people who had helped me along on the journey into youth ministry in Forest City.  A seminary professor and his wife were there along with friends and families of people that I hadn't seen for years.  Over one hundred and twenty-five people braved the winter to be witnesses.


It's tough to actually explain how that feels.  Humbling is the first word; nerve-wracking is the second.  Imagine if we would have messed that concert up?  I suppose the people would have left saying, Guess we can break up the cloud now?


But as we began to sing and share our story of the last four years in Ozstralia, a sense of peace enveloped me and despite the bitter cold of the enveloping night around us, I wished that I had ruby slippers to click together, not to wish to move back home, but to wish that every person would have this opportunity in their life to be surrounded by a whole group of people that loved them and wished the best for them.  A group of people that rolls in like a cloud and encourages beyond measure for the uncertainties of life that might occur. 


The only time this normally happens is at a funeral, but I wish there was a weekly gathering of people who would lift one person in the community up, put them on their shoulders and let them be loved.  That would have been my ruby slipper wish.


After the concert was over, we journeyed to the basement of the church and, of course, had coffee and sweets.  The same ladies who always volunteer stood in the kitchen with contented faces,  countenances glowing with mirthful joy that they were sharing life together without Facebooking.  When we adjourned downstairs, the witnesses gathered to share their own lives and as I watched from the periphery, I imagined that this is what heaven would be like: not a church basement on a frigid night, but a community of saints sharing in God's good life together.


So, as the brick road comes to an end for our America trip, I click my heels and wish you all the opportunity to celebrate someone else's life and if that moment comes when you need a break from Kansas...


You can always visit us here in Oz.